


mirror

by kaaogami (ghoulnoace)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulnoace/pseuds/kaaogami
Summary: What he’s coming home to… what has gotten him already half-hard in his warmups and itching to get out of his clothes…It’s not a she. Or a he.Daiki’s pretty sure it’s not evenhuman.





	mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Posting here coz tumblr is trash and I'm never posting shit there again

They’re passing by the huge convenience store windows when Daiki sees it out of the corner of his eye — a flash of red on the glass surface that was there one second and gone the very next.

He stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, stares at the point where it disappeared for a couple of seconds, before he turns on his heel with a huff and walks back the way they came, his steps now wide and hurried.

“Da-Aomine-kun, where are you going?!” Satsuki calls out after him, tone equal parts exasperated and concerned.

“Home. I don’t feel good,” he shouts over his shoulder, ignoring Wakamatsu’s angry yelling and the other team members’ mutterings about him skipping the practice match just to do the nasty with his girlfriend.

He almost wants to laugh. Because though he may not be sick, he sure as hell isn’t rushing home to fuck his non-existent girlfriend. What he’s coming home to… what has gotten him already half-hard in his warmups and itching to get out of his clothes…

It’s not a she. Or a he.

Daiki’s pretty sure it’s not even  _human_.

**

Daiki feels its eyes on him as soon as he steps into the unusually heated air of his darkened room. The knowledge that it called for him and now it’s  _here_ , waiting for him —  _again_ — only adds to the arousal already thrumming just below his skin since he saw a glimpse of red earlier. The anticipation, the knowledge of what’s to come makes his hands tremble as he locks his door and moves towards his bed, his steps too quick and clumsy he almost trips over his feet.

“Shit!”

He thinks he hears a deep, sly chuckle over his shoulder, but he can’t be sure of it over the sound of his own breathing turning harsher and harsher by the second, over the rustling of his clothes as he pulls at it, eager to get it off of him, so desperate is he to lie down on his back and open his body up like an offering for its hungry gaze, for its pleasure, for its approval.

Finally naked, he moves to prop himself on the pillows by the headboard. He’s already so hard, precum making the head of his cock wet, and he wonders if he can cum just from being watched – oh how he wants to try – but an impatient snarl jolts him out of his thoughts, and with a sigh, he wraps his trembling hand over his length. His obedience is rewarded by a pleased, low purr that resonates all the way down to his bones, makes him groan and close his eyes in bliss, makes his hand jerk over his cock hard and fast.

There’s a whisper at the back of his mind, insistent and more like an order rather than a suggestion, and he scrambles to obey it, reaching over to the bedside drawer and grabbing the lube while still keeping one hand pumping on his length.

The touch of the gel on the puckered rim of his hole is cold, but it heats up quickly inside him. His body just feels so hot, like he’s  _burning_. He barely gets a finger in before he’s pushing two more, far too impatient to take it slow. But damn if the sting of being stretched too much too soon doesn’t feel  _good_. It feels so damn good it’s like his cock got impossibly harder on his palm.

 _“Fuck,”_  he groans loudly as his fingers brush against his prostate, the thumb of his other hand rubbing insistently over the slit of his dick.

He opens his eyes, his sight immediately drawn to the full-length mirror standing close to the foot of his bed, but it isn’t his lewd reflection that he sees, no.

Instead, he sees  _it._  The figure on his mirror that’s shaped like a human but looks anything but.

It is made of fire, tendrils of flame curling around its body and the pair of horns curving high, beautifully, on the top of its head. And instead of soft, smooth skin, hardened dark scales run along its neck and shoulders, down to its limbs, down further into its torso and thighs, its hands and feet ending in claws. It lounges on its seat — throne-like in its size, covered and surrounded with inky shadows — as it stares at Daiki, its pupils blood-red pools surrounded by pure black. Their eyes meet and Daiki curses and trembles violently at the intensity of its look, the way it seems to suck something from deep, deep, deep within him, causing heat and lust to spark in his core.

He continues pleasuring himself, alternating his hands’ movements; one minute he’s jerking himself rough and grinding his ass down his palm, and the next he’s squeezing around his cockhead and fucking himself fast with his fingers. All the while, he watches it watch him, feeling its eyes on him like a tangible touch over every inch of his skin, over every harsh dip of his muscles, like it’s claiming him, marking him, and he swears he can almost feel its wide jagged grin against his neck as he arches his back and spreads his legs, the better to present his body to its gaze.

_Fuck fuck fuck bite me, bite me I’m —_

He’s close. He’s so close. He doesn’t want this to end so soon.

With a whine, he pulls his fingers out of his ass and curls a hand tightly around the base of his cock. His chest heaves as he gasps in air and tries to stave off his orgasm.

A minute passes like that with his ragged breathing the only sounds in the room. He squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to be tempted with its scorching scrutiny and the coaxing murmurs of  _so pretty so lovely you’d look so beautiful bouncing on my cock so delicious so delicious I’ll_  — and when he’s sure he won’t blow his load just yet, he pushes himself to his knees and crawls down the bed, stopping a foot or so from the mirror.

Daiki hadn’t been this close before, and he feels a shiver run down his spine at the proximity, at the heat he can feel coming from the once-reflective surface, as if the fire wrapped around this creature — this demon, because what the fuck else could it be? — is trying to melt a hole through the glass _and burn him alive._

He reaches out a hand and pauses. His breath stills as his fingers hover over the surface.  _Is the mirror there? Or will my fingers pass through?_

He looks up, and the demon smirks, all pointed teeth and challenge and predatorial want, as if telling him  _come on, touch it, touch it touch it touch it (I’ll eat you up)._

Daiki smirks back, his blood rushing from the thrill of danger and the fact that a fucking demon from hell wants  _his_ ass.

His eyes are wide as his fingers touch the glass, like he’s expecting something to happen, but it feels solid and so very present under his trembling touch. His relief, small as it is, is short-lived and quickly overshadowed by disappointment and  _what am I thinking. I’ve gone crazy. This is wro —_

The demon hisses at him, ordering him to go back to making himself cum, and Daiki laughs, the sound of it surprised, almost shrill, almost manic, but he  _does_  get back to it. And he makes a show of it, for the demon on his mirror that’s looking at him like he’s the tastiest piece of meal it has ever seen. He pushes his hips forward, his hand once again moving frantically over his cock and the other pulling and rubbing at his nipple. He moans and curses and lets loose dirty little whispers —  _“so good” “fuck, oh god fuck me” “I want you — ”_

It then shifts, and Daiki eyes the rippling of the muscles of its chest and stomach, his gaze dropping to its cock hanging heavy and dark between its thighs. It’s too big, too intimidating, too rock-hard and he  _wants_ it in him.

Thoughts of _this is wrong this is crazy this is fucked up_  races through his muddled mind even as he leans forward. Even as he slips his tongue past his lips and he flattens it on the mirror and  _licks_ it, his saliva leaving a wet trail and his shallow breaths fogging up the surface. Even as he suddenly finds himself barely an inch from the demon, its own blackened, forked tongue licking right alongside his and he is —

He braces his forehead on the mirror with a gasp and with drool dripping from his mouth. “I’m…  _shit_ … close. I’m — ”

_Fucked up fucked up I’m fucked up_

_‘Daiki.’_

It says his name like a growl of desire, like a promise of pleasure and sin and more. Like a warning. Like a temptation. And he climaxes to the sound and the feeling of it rumbling through his body, sending him shuddering almost violently, his fervent cry stuttering on an inhale as he slumps forward, his limbs tense and his nerves on fire.

“Oh fuck  _fuck_ so good.  _Nghh_ — ”

There’s a dark, satisfied look on its red, red eyes and an impish curve to the set of his mouth as it watches Daiki tremble and groan through his orgasm. It raises its hand, the tips of its nails wickedly sharp, and the surface of the mirror shifts, tiny hairline cracks blossoming outwards from its touch.

Daiki’s heart beats wildly on his chest, and there’s something telling him to move away,  _to leave,_  and even in the heady haze of pleasure, he recognizes it for what it is.

Fear. And it freezes him to the spot, his eyes wide and hand dripping with his cum. But at the forefront of that is something else, something that makes him moan in anticipation and shake with need, makes his dick twitch and his toes curl…

Arousal. It’s wrong. It feels so, so good.

And it sees his reaction (it sees  _everything_ ) and it smiles its wide and sultry smile and it says, its voice grating and loud against the foreboding noise of the mirror cracking and cracking and  _cracking –_

_‘Soon. I’ll have you soon, Daiki.’_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> :3


End file.
